General Foolishness

And for the umpteenth time, a shower tried to kill me

Okay ya’ll. I had a post about Christmas tree(s) all ready to go and then I took a break to shower and then the shower tried to kill me so now you’re hearing about that instead.

Some of you may remember how an NYC shower stole my right nipple at Blogher 2010. BUT my issues with shower curtains go way back. For as long as I can remember-I have had a fear of shower curtains. Think about it…nothing good ever happens that involves a shower curtain. They can hide scary clowns, mass murderers, slugs. In movies, there’s no hot love scenes involving shower curtains-it’s all stabby and blood spray and bodies being wrapped up in them and kill rooms being partitioned off with cheap ones.

As I have mentioned before, when J and I were dating he lived in a condo with cursed shower curtains. (The curtains themselves were not cursed, they were cursing ME as I was trying to appear mostly normal.) I grew up, as all people should, with glass shower doors. I had shower curtains in my dorm rooms in college which was okay because a. we drank too much to be scared of a shower curtain and b. everyone knows no scary movies are EVER set in colleges or dorm rooms. He kept closing them to let them “dry” or something equally ridiculous and I kept opening them because hi-Norman Bates. I finally broke down and told him I was terrified of shower curtains and him closing them was making me unable to pee. Because I would hate for Freddy Krueger to leap out and slash me when I am sitting on the toilet…sleeping I guess since didn’t he only kill people in their dreams?

ANYWAYS-so today I showered, look at me go and it’s not even noon, and my shower actively tried to kill me. Instead of cleaning up the water that managed to spray into the cabinets and out into the hall, I am doing what most people would do by blogging about it.

Of course, the shower waits to plot my demise until I have conditioner in my hair and soap all over my body so I can’t even evade it’s traps until AFTER I have rinsed off which is pretty hard when the water is shooting with rocket-like force at your ceiling instead of at your body.

I failed to mention-in the process of exploding the little handle sprayer thing you see there landed firmly on my head until I could flail at it and fling it out of the shower where it landed next to me, now drenched, In Style magazine. (I get bored drying my hair and need reading material to make it bearable.) I’m not too bummed out about this particular issue being soaked as I find Drew Barrymore annoying.

So now, the bathroom is ever so slightly filled with water, as are the cabinets, the ceiling is soaked and the carpet in the hall is wet. But I am clean. And sent the following text to J: we need a new shower head.

Next time somebody gives me crap about staying in pajamas all day I am referring them here.

Like this:

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I’m wondering if he’s questioning the need for a new shower head, as Mr. Kiss would absolutely turn that into a sick joke. He’s seen Sex and the City, a particular episode involving Samantha. And a shower head. That’s all. Happy New Year!

I love changing my shower curtains often because I am easily bored and they give me a fresh and new feeling in the bath room. But when I am taking a shower I get the feeling that I am being watched and someone is lurking on the other side.